Today,
the sadness slid in like fog—
not sudden,
just there.
Heavy without being invited.
I sit with it,
ashamed,
like I’ve broken something sacred
by feeling low in the presence
of someone so bright.
She laughs like clear water,
touches my hand like forgiveness—
how can I ache
when she exists?
But the ache doesn't check who I love,
only who I am.
It loops.
A guilt for feeling,
a guilt for...
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